


Tattoo

by blueshadowmutt



Series: Tattoing on my body [1]
Category: Naruto, Naruto Shippuden
Genre: M/M, like everything else i write this too is a joke, the story is finished this time, yay to me!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueshadowmutt/pseuds/blueshadowmutt
Summary: Sound wasn't too bad. Objectively, it could be worse. And it was, as soon as tattoos started appearing on him. As soon as he realized the words looked like Naruto's chicken scratch.
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Series: Tattoing on my body [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710499
Comments: 28
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a lot of chaptered story, but I decided to break into two parts. if you happened to read this before I took it down originally, you are probably familiar with the first big chunk of the story.

The first time it happened, Sasuke had been dragging his body from the east training ground back to his chamber. A few months after leaving Konoha, the training wasn’t getting any easier, but finding his way around was, at least. Getting lost was not his idea of fun, or training, but Orochimaru insisted that it was survival training and that was never wasted. Sasuke would beg to disagree, but most days, he didn’t have the energy to speak. Nor the want. Nor the need. If anything, it did train him to conceal his chakra better.

He noticed the mark as he bandaged his burned hand, a little black spiral right in the middle of his palm. He scrubbed it with soap and water, but the persistent mark remained.

A few weeks later, it was joined by another one in his other hand. Same color. Same spiral. That one too, remained etched on his skin, catching his eyes whenever he was distracted, whenever he wasn’t careful. If he stared too long, the spiral morphed into Konoha’s symbol, and that alone gave him enough energy to push another burst of lightning out of his palm.

Another month, and the lightning was spreading across his arm, spiking out of his skin in tiny needles. Sometimes, it numbed him, but that didn’t matter; sometimes, he heard Kabuto snickering that he would become a porcupine, but that didn’t matter either. He would turn into a snake if that’s what it took. Another month, and his katana was no longer a weapon, but an extension of his arm.

He lost track of the months. He forgot about the little marks on his palm, faded and forgotten. He lost count of how many days he spent out in the rain, drenched to the bone, willing his chakra to fly across the sky and into the clouds to call lightning from them, only to be rewarded with a cold. He lost count of his fevers, and lost count of the needles someone shoved into him to make him feel better.

It didn’t matter how many people he knocked out. It didn’t matter how many times he listened to Orochimaru’ lecture about killing people and getting it over with--it didn’t matter how many jutsus the man tried to keep from him as  _ motivation _ to murder. There was only one person he was going to kill--besides, he had the Sharingan. It wasn’t like he couldn’t just steal the jutsus.

It wasn’t like Orochimaru wasn’t letting him steal them. It was an intricate arrangement, the jutsus promised or withheld, in exchange of missions.

One mission took him to the northern side of the Land of Lightning, only agreeing to go for the possibility of using one of those naturally occuring thunderstorms to finally draw his own lightning from the sky. It was reaching, he knew, but he’d lost count of the times that he’d simply passed out from chakra exhaustion, and he needed to make progress. The mission was a simple one, some infiltration, some stealing--nothing too difficult. Completed in less than a day. Enough time to spare some experimentation with the clouds.

Time passed fast there, and the leaps of improvement were memorable. But unless he could draw Itachi Uchiha into the Land of Lightning, and predict where the lightning would strike, it would do little to kill him, even if he could now use his eyes to track the lightning accurately enough to infuse some chakra into it before it stroke the ground.

And he couldn’t stay there. Not forever. Orochimaru would hunt him down, and Sasuke wasn’t entirely sure how open the man would remain about letting him roam around unsupervised.

But he knew how thunderclouds formed, and that, Sasuke could work with. He scribbled  _ warm air _ on his forearm, covered it up, and left to find shelter from the storm.

And that’s when his trouble began.

He found a waterfall on the way back. A nice clearing to practice the Great Fireball Technique, to speed it up, to build enough chakra in his lungs to increase its size. He would need enough to warm the air, fast enough to create a thundercloud overhead; he couldn’t predict when a thunderstorm would happen, but he could force one. He would. He just needed to train, some practice, and maybe, he realized, a little luck. He lost track of time, until he couldn’t physically lift his arms anymore, at which point, there was nothing else to do than try to relax.

As he was dipping into the water, he caught the words, large and ugly scratched across his arm, the words his exact sentiment at that moment.

_ What the fuck?! _

It took less than a second for his memory to (un)helpfully provide where he’d seen that handwriting before--the great wonders of the Sharingan, he supposed. He shoved his hand under the water and began to scrub furiously as the days with the stubborn spirals came rushing back to his memory. The words didn’t go away, wouldn’t go away, no matter how much he scrubbed. He should have paid more attention to the spirals, to figure out the time it took for them to disappear, so at least he could know when he’d be freed of the forsaken words. The spirals had been easy to hide, with the excuse of globes, but--well, he could bandage his arm.

And refuse to take them off in the monthly check-up? Of course, he could just pretend he’d written it themselves, as a way to let some...frustration out? He didn’t like the idea that anyone under Orochimaru would consider that he was frustrated about anything. Besides, that idiot’s handwriting was atrocious, and Sasuke simply, would not, could not pretend that it was his own handwriting. 

Bandages it was, then. And then he could put more of his energy trying to figure out exactly why someone could write on his skin. And not just anyone, but--he shook his head, the tree branch faltering under his step. He couldn’t catch a break, could he? That idiot.

Logically, he knew that Naruto, in all likelihood, didn’t know what was going on. The three words etched onto his arm said as much, at least, and--and at least, if he never wrote anything on himself, Naruto would have no reason to write on himself either. Not the best plan, but it was the only thing he could come up with as he approached the hideout entrance, and he carefully kept his face blank.

He was later than anticipated, and although Orochimaru made an effort to redirect his displeasure with Sasuke onto other people--the asshole--it had been made abundantly clear that late returns from missions were less than ideal. Sasuke understood, he too, he supposed, would be pissed off if his supposed body decided to deflect. If he was as sick as Orochimaru, of course.

He walked to the main chambers, keeping his pace steady, but quick. Pretending that he didn’t give a single fuck about keeping Orochimaru waiting was easy because, mostly, he didn’t give a fuck, but his chakra’s levels were dangerously low and he’d rather catch a break, rather than have an improvised training session with--a man that was too powerful and who, despite all his yearning, Sasuke could not defeat. Yet. One day. Preferably sooner than later.

“Ah, Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru began, with that annoying slimmy voice of his. “So nice of you to join us. I was just getting Karin ready to find out if you were in trouble.”

Another way of saying that he was about ready to send someone to hunt him down. Sasuke glanced at the girl standing in front of Orochimaru, with a bright, red hair cascading down her back, and glasses matching the color. 

“Hn,” Sasuke said, slipping the scroll he’d been sent to retrieve and tossing it at Orochimaru. Sadly, it did not hit him in the face. 

“Well?”

Sasuke did his best not to roll his eyes. Flat face. “Well, what?” He asked, ignoring the small, offended gasp coming form the girl. 

“I need a verbal report, Sasuke-kun. You’re two days late.”

He shrugged, “decided to take in the scenery. What does it matter? I got you the scroll.”

“Well, shinobi take missions and then report how it went to their Kage, that’s how it works.”

He shouldn’t have, of course. “If I wanted to report to a Kage, I would have stayed in Konoha.”

The girl gasped again, but Sasuke wrote her off, his eyes all too focused on the way that Orochimaru shifted in the seat. “Well, then, I should take some time to remind you why you left Konoha, shouldn’t I?”

Sasuke refused to pass out, not out of pride, that had been stripped away about two hours ago, but because he could not pass out with Naruto’s hand writing on his arm, no matter how many bandages were hiding it. He doubted that Orochimaru could recognized that idiot’s handwriting, but Kabuto had been in those damn Chunin exams, and could have seen it, and well, Sasuke just couldn’t risk it. Obviously, he wasn’t in cahoots with that idiot, but Orochimaru could be a little...irrational. But not passing out was different than fighting, and--to his complete disgust, he couldn’t do much of that either. 

He landed face down, feeling the curse mark receding, the spot on his neck burning as it did everytime Sasuke used it after depleting his own chakra. 

Orochimaru clicked his tongue. “See, Sasuke-kun, months here, and Konoha’s ineptitude is still buried in your bones.”

Sasuke would have screamed, but he was already immobile, and Orochimaru was right. It had been months, and the only thing he had managed to do was avoid some of his attacks and not faint every time he went onto Level Two. It was pathetic. 

“Oh, well.” His voice grated on Sasuke’s ears. “Karin, go ahead and give him a hand,” he chuckled. “Sasuke-kun, when you feel better tomorrow, I do expect a verbal report.”

His footsteps faded and Sasuke should have really,  _ really _ seen the smugness coming. He pushed himself off the ground, landing on his butt as the girl rushed to him. She lifted her sleeve revealing an arm full of bite marks. 

“Bite, quick.” She sounded as old as he did. 

“ _ What _ ?”

There was a faint blush across her cheeks, but Sasuke didn’t have the energy to roll his eyes. “Bite. It’ll replenish your chakra.”

Another one of Orochimaru’s creepy experiments, then. But without a second thought, he obeyed. His ears registered a whimper, but he was too focused on his chakra channels flowing again. Soon, even the soreness in his muscles eased away. Creepy, but useful. “Thanks,” he spitted out, standing up, surprised that the room didn’t spin. 

“You’re welcome, Sasuke-kun,” Karin replied, still with the blush on her cheeks. “I hope you feel better, but you shouldn’t talk to Orochimaru-sama like that. It’s not--” 

“Mind your own business,” Sasuke said, stalking out the room. 

And if the next morning, he showed up back in the main room, carefully detailing every day of his mission, it was because he had some common sense, and not because of that girl’s stupid suggestion, or warning. But it worked, it appeased Orochimaru and instead of spending the rest of the morning humiliating Sasuke and pointing out his lack of ability, he sent him to Kabuto. 

Poison immunity. 

Kabuto, in his opinion, was worse than Orochimaru. While Orochimaru ran sick experiments that caused too much pain for everyone involved, it often looked like he was genuinely curious about the result; Kabuto, though, looked like the results were just a byproduct of the pain inflicted on others. That and his annoying habit to bring up Konoha and every idiot who lived there made him a thousand times more annoying than Orochimaru. 

“I would do this in smaller doses, normally,” Kabuto said, as he wrapped an elastic around Sasuke’s biceps, tightening it, Sasuke suspected, more than necessary. “But Miss. Uzumaki is here, and it’ll be a waste to let the opportunity go, don’t you think so, Sasuke-kun?”

_ Uzumaki _ ?  _ Miss _ .  _ Uzumaki _ ? Sasuke was sure he had not heard right. And even if he had, he was confident that his expression didn’t betray him, he didn’t even glance down at his freed arm, the words still there, like a permanent, annoying tattoo. The other annoying thing about Kabuto, one of the many, was that he liked to make a show about how much he knew and how little Sasuke knew--made a show that he too, was Orochimaru’s favorite, like that was something to brag about. He leveled him with a look, watching as the needle was brought up to his arm, golden drops spilling from it. 

“Not much for talking today?” Kabuto continued, “I don’t blame you. I’d be rather quiet too, if I had my ass handed to me by Orochimaru-sama; of course, I’m not an idiot like you, Sasuke-kun, so that wouldn’t happened.”

The needle went in, spreading scorching heat along his arm. “Fuck off,” he said, feeling the warmth travel across his chest, down his other arm, engulfing him. It must be what been scorched in a Great Fireball felt like, but he refused to scream. He’d bite his tongue off before giving Kabuto the satisfaction. In the distance, he heard the door opening.

“Karin, you’re just in time,” Kabuto said. Approaching footsteps. And then, the same girl as yesterday came into view. Karin seemed to know the drill, lifting her sleeve up and bringing her arm close to Sasuke’s lips. Sasuke was about to bite down when Kabuto pulled the arm away. “Hold on, the effects haven’t taken place.”

They hadn’t? Fuck. It had to be a joke. Bite off his tongue. Bite it off, better than screaming. 

“How do you know, Kabuto-san?” Karin asked, her voice sounded so much like every other stupid girl he’d ever met. 

“Because he hasn’t started screaming yet.”

Sasuke couldn’t bring his eyes to look up, but he could picture the satisfied smile on that bastard’s face, smug in anticipation--but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He refused. His resolved faltered somewhat when he saw the needle with the same golden liquid,  _ poison _ , hovering over his face, and then a prick on his right arm, and then again, the fire burning his bones. The third time, he dug his nails into the wooden armrest, and maybe, that was enough for Kabuto, because he was allowed to bite on Karin’s arm, barely registering the soft whimper, barely registering Kabuto’s sickening voice as he talked about the Uzumakis wonderful skills. 

He didn’t pass out, but his brain was too foggy to began considering what those words even meant. And when he came back to himself, Karin had gone back to the eastern hideout, and Sasuke was left to ponder Kabuto’s words in his free time. He didn’t have a lot of free time, and the time that he did have, he’d rather not spend it thinking about a weird girl and Kabuto’s stupid, annoying words. 

And he managed to push them aside for the most part. Until one morning.  _ List of Top Ramen in Iwagakure _ . On his right hand. The names weren’t numbered, but the list of shops went down to his elbow, presumably, the continuation bleeding onto his left hand. It had to be some sick joke. He sat down on the floor, staring at his hands, drawing in breaths to center himself. He absolutely could not reach for ink and scribble a message back to that idiot to  _ cut it out _ because then he’d run the risk of Naruto, or someone smarter than him, catching up, no matter how much he wanted to do that. But--

“Good morning, Sasuke-kun,” the door opened, revealing Kabuto. Sasuke’s reflexes were fast enough to turn his arms away from view. “Orochimaru-sama has a mission for you, hurry up. It doesn’t look like you should keep him waiting.”

Sasuke stared until the door closed again and he heard faded footsteps. He glanced down, the list, at least, looked like it was done. Okay. Gloves and...long sleeves? He changed, soon heading to the main room. There was a body on the floor when he entered, a sight he’d grown accustomed to, one that did not twist his stomach anymore. Though it should. That was a human life lost, only because Orochimaru threw a tantrum. He caught the mission scroll Orochimaru tossed him.

“Bring him back,” Orochimaru said. No Sasuke-kun? He was in a foul mood. “Karin is waiting on the outskirts for you, she’ll hunt him down.”

Usually, Sasuke would make a point to just walk out without a thought or motion that he understood or agreed, but he could  _ feel _ Orochimaru’s chakra engulfing the entire room, not unlike their first meeting in the Forest of Death, and Sasuke did have some self-preservation still on him, so he nodded. 

He read the scroll as he left the hideout. A runaway experiment, no name, obviously, but apparently, it was crucial that the subject did not reach a large body of water. Right. Well...at least he would be out of prying eyes and by the time he returned, maybe that stupid list would fade away,

Karin was waiting for him, and it took him only a moment to realize why she was coming along--a sensor. And a fast one at that. Sasuke let her set the pace, mostly because he had no idea where they were going, but because he could stare with confidence that she didn’t have literal eyes in the back of her head. Kabuto’s information was hardly trustworthy, but he had a pressing issue that involved another Uzumaki, and if the red-haired girl was the only connection he had, he would use his resources. Gather information to try and determine if it was Naruto’s fault, or--his own fault. 

Stupid. It was probably that idiot’s fault.

“What is your last name?” If he had to talk, he might as well cut to the chase. 

Karin halted on a tree branch, turning to look at him when he landed next to her. “Uzumaki,” she said. Her eyes closed for a moment, her eyes furrowing, before she was leaping in another direction. Sasuke followed her, staying by her side this time. 

He was sure that Naruto was the only Uzumaki he ever heard of, an orphan, clanless. Were his ancestors not from Konoha then? Or was Karin in it with Kabuto, just trying to mess with him, trying to prove some convulated point to their  _ precious Orochimaru-sama _ ? Of course--there was the fact that Karin seemed to heal other people, and the last fight with Naruto made it abundantly clear that he could heal himself disturbingly, unfairly fast. 

“Kabuto-san said that your teammate was an Uzumaki too,” Karin said. “I didn’t think there were any left.”

Remembering that Kabuto was the one who brought all this up made him more suspicious still, but--but he didn’t have anything else to go on, and he needed to find away to stop Naruto’s writing from appearing on his skin. When he left Konoha, he’d made sure that was the last he’d seen of every single one of them and he needed it to stay that way, which meant he had to resolve his stupid problem. 

“He said he cared a lot about you,” Karin said, stealing a glance that she probably considered quick, but it just reminded him of the way that Sakura used to look at him. Great. At least, Karin was a little more useful. Much more useful. And at this point, he did need her. “I don’t blame him, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke bit back a retort and kept quiet, letting the silence consume them, hoping that it would prompt more information, but the only thing that it prompted was more giggles and  _ Sasuke-kun _ s. Just what he needed. He almost killed one Uzumaki, only to find himself saddled with another one. 

“If he gets to water, we’ll lose him,” Karin said, the branch almost breaking off under the pressure of her chakra. 

Over the past hours, Sasuke had realized that Karin wasn’t as much of an airhead as he’d originally believed; the observation made sense, if she had been, Orochimaru wouldn’t have send her with him, wouldn’t have even kept her alive. As it turned out, if she was talking about Orochimaru, or about the mission, she didn’t seem to have the need to  _ gush _ over him, so it wasn’t a difficult choice to make: either make conversation or submit himself to endless, futile glances accompanied by emberassing face coloration. 

“How do you know?” He asked, deciding that he could swallow his pride. He was familiar with Orochimaru’s prisoners and if the runaway was important enough to retrieve him, rather than kill him, then he would prefer to be prepared. 

“He escaped from my post,” Karin replied, a thick layer of annoyance strung on her voice. Clearly, she was more useful than Sasuke could even imagine--if she was still alive, or not locked up herself. “That idiot is made out of water, so you can imagine how difficult it will be to bring him back if he gets inside an ocean.” There was a lot to unpack, but over time, Sasuke had learned not to ask questions, aloud or to himself. “But I’ll find him. He’s too slow on land and I have his chakra signature locked; I’ll bring him back to Orochimaru-sama. With your help, of course, Sasuke-kun.”

“Hn.” That killed the conversation, but the glances started soon after. “How does tracking work?” He knew the basics, of course, especially considering the Hyuga’s abilities, and he knew that he was generally awful at it, that had become abundantly clear when he was left in a maze for two weeks without being able to find the exit, but there was nothing wrong with educating himself. 

Karin giggled, making Sasuke regret ever asking, but she calmed herself down a second later. It would have been impressive, if it wasn’t so annoying. “Well, everyone has a different chakra signature--” 

“I know.”

Another giggle. “Of course, Sasuke-kun. Some people can see it and other people can hear it. I can feel it, small waves off of anything that the person touched. Orochimaru-sama, for example, has spikes instead, it crackles, it used to be deep purple, but it’s turned somewhat blue since I was last here. Kabuto-san’s barely visible, a lime color. That idiot’s, unsurprisingly, is blue and it sticks to everything it touches. It’s a little disgusting--” 

“And mine?”

Karin looked at him, but not like the last hundred of times. She looked serious, as her eyes trailed over him, staying a few more seconds on his arms. “A faint purple mixed with orange...maybe a little red, it looks like something is trying to blur away the blue...it happens a lot to people with the curse seals.”

Orange? Karin’s words provided some explanation, a rather acceptable one, but Sasuke couldn’t shake away the memory of Naruto and that gigantic...tail. He glanced down at his arms, before leaping after Karin. Had--had their chakra mixed? Could chakra even mix with another? He’d never heard of anything like that happening, but he’d never heard of anyone able to manifest a physical, demonic form either, so the prospect couldn’t be that farfetched. He’d also never heard of anyone being able to write on someone’s skin from kilometers away. “Why don’t you have a cursed mark?”

The sigh was long. “Not special enough.”

Not special enough to brand, but special enough to keep alive. “And you have to see the person before you can start tracking their chakra?”

“Most times,” Karin replied, halting on a branch. Sasuke had enough foresight to side-step her. “If the chakra is similar enough, like siblings, or parents, it might work without seeing the person directly.” She threw a kunai and if his Sharingan hadn’t intuitively flared up, he would have missed the way the intended target’s head turned into water, and then formed again, like nothing happened. Creepy, but clearly useful. 

“Karin, move,” he said, going over the familiar hand signs, concentring his chakra on his chest, and letting the fire burst out. Expectantly, the fire evaporated when it crashed against a water wall, but the vapor was the cover he needed to throw two senbon out, laced with lightning. He landed next to Karin, watching the body...unmoving, petrified. 

“Sasuke-kun, you’re so cool!” 

That was an unnecessary squeal, but Sasuke let it go, picking the runaway instead and tossing him over the shoulder. “Let’s go,” he told her, leaping to the nearest branch. 

They traveled towards the east, opposite to the main hideout. It had been considerably easy to convince Karin; it wouldn’t make sense to meet Orochimaru, only to transport back the prisoner. Besides, the east hideout was the closest to Suna, the driest one. When they stopped for the night, for no one’s benefit, it was a little too easy to knock her out with a tiny genjutsu; Sasuke was beginning to see how someone would have been able to slip pass her, but Karin hadn’t given him the impression that she had a crush on the prisoner. 

Sasuke watched him carefully, before dumping water on him, his other hand covering his mouth. One last glance confirmed that Karin was unconscious, but he layered another genjutsu on top, just to be safe. She clearly had a crush on him, but she was clearly devoted to Orochimaru, too, and he didn’t need prying ears or eyes at the moment. 

He turned his attention back to the guy, about his age too--unsurprising, he supposed, Orochimaru did seem to have a strange obsession with teenage boys. He remained unmoving, but if eyes could kill--which they could, at least the Sharingan could--he would be dead. “How did you escape?”

“Fuck off, Oro-pet.”

He’d heard the nickname before, enough times to keep his face blank, despite how it grated on his nerves. “Water makes it easier to travel?”

“Fuck off.”

He glanced at his right arm, not having checked whether or not that idiotic list was still there, but having a feeling that it was. “I’ll let you go,” he said. “But I need you to get something for me.”

“Fuck off.” But it didn’t sound as angry as the previous one. 

“Or you can remain paralyzed until Orochimaru gets his hands on you.”

“What do you want me to steal?”

So, his interrogation and persuasive skills were not the best, he was much better at knocking opponents out, but he was getting somewhere. He couldn’t blame him; hardly anyone managed to escape, but the ones who did and were recaptured? It didn’t end well for them. Sasuke had never planned to run away, per se, but the consequences of doing so and being recaptured were enough to deter even him. 

“A...rock,” he said, not quite open to calling it by its name. “It’s in Konoha, underneath the Naka Shrine.” 

“Why?”

Sasuke would have raised an eyebrow, if he had the care or energy, or hadn’t spend the last year keeping his face blank. “Nostalgia,” he replied. 

“Does Orochimaru know how much you miss your old home? Are you ready to betray him yet?”

“I’m not betraying him,” Sasuke replied, his tone passive. “I just need something from Konoha; if I were betraying him, I would knock you out, go to Konoha myself, and drop you off at his doorstep.” If Konoha ever let him leave--although, he couldn’t imagine it would be harder to desert Konoha than it would be to desert Orochimaru. 

“If I agree, I can just run away,” the guy said, laughing. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

He was. But the orange chakra was unsettling, the handwriting was unsettling, it was driving him insane, slowly, but annoyingly steady. What if Naruto fell asleep one day and someone decided that he needed a taste of his own medicine and decided to play a prank on him by writing something across his stupid forehead?  _ He _ would have written something across Naruto’s stupid forehead, if given the opportunity, and he couldn’t be the only one annoyed by that stupid face. So, logically, there were plenty of people who would take that opportunity, and Naruto was a heavy sleeper, so it left him open to the opportunity. Sasuke just couldn’t risk that. And the truth was that he didn’t know much about the Mangekyou, and if attempting to get it had...caused this, then the scriptures were the only logical step to pursue. It was the Naka Shrine, or...hunting down Itachi Uchiha to have an open and candid conversation about the Sharingan--which would never happen. His options were a bit on the short end of the issue, unfortunately. 

“When you get caught, I’ll help you escape, again. But if you betray me, we’ll still find you, and I’ll make sure you never leave.”

“Throw in a gift and I might consider it.”

Logically, he should not be pursuing this, of course, should not be demonstrating how desperate he was, but he couldn’t exactly waltzed into Konoha himself--not just because he’ll be detained the moment he did, but because, on the chance that he made it out, Orochimaru would...reconsider a couple of things. Sasuke didn’t want to end up in a cage too, waiting for the day that Orochimaru took over his body, without the possibility of defending himself. He didn’t have plans after killing Itachi, but the Sharingan was too special to land in the hands of Orochimaru, or anyone like him. “What do you want?”

The toothy smirk made him look like a shark. “That’s a pretty sword you have--” 

“ _ No _ ,” he said, firmly. But--thinking of Konoha did draw certain memories to the surface, and...somehow, Naruto  _ had _ convinced everyone that leaving Zabuza’s sword unattended was a great idea. Hadn’t he? At the top of a mountain, in that tiny town with the bridge named after him. That idiot. “But I’ll help you find a better one--” 

“Unless it’s Zabuza Momochi’s, I’m not interested.”

“It is.”

The guy stared at him, his eyes narrowing, “how do you know where it is?”

“None of your business,” he replied, curtly. “Are you interested, or do you want me to knock you out again?”

“Fine. I’ll do it, I’ll bring that stupid rock that you need and when I hand it over, you’ll tell me where Zabuza’s sword is, and we’ll never cross paths again.”

And that’s how Sasuke ended up carrying him, Suigetsu apparently, to the nearest river. He watched him disappear, melt into the water, and then he hurried back, exerting a body chidori, cutting a couple of trees, and generally making it seem like there had been a rather involved  fight, his chakra levels just enough to rearrange some of Karin’s memories, hopefully well enough that the trails of chakra they left behind would make sense. 

\-----

“It seems I’m not understanding what happened,” Orochimaru said, the words slipping through his lips like it was costing a great deal of energy to remain sitting on the gigantic chair with the snake heads sprouting from the armrests, instead of attacking either one of them. 

“The prisoner slipped through,” Sasuke said, trying to keep the correct amount of annoyance in his tone. Not enough to get...Karin killed obviously--it wasn’t her fault, after all, and he didn’t want more blood on his hands that didn’t deserve to be there--but enough to pretend that it was an annoying inconvenience. “Made it to a river--” 

“Let me repeat what I’m hearing,” Orochimaru said, his eyes moving from Karin to Sasuke, maintain his composure much better than Sasuke would have thought possible, or probable. “I sent you two to get him back for me, but Suigetsu was just too smart and strong for both of you? Together? At the same time?”

Karin was looking down at the floor; Sasuke could feel the fear and shame radiating from her. “He took us by surprise, Orochimaru-sama--” 

“Must have been quite a surprise,” Orochimaru replied. “Karin, find him. Again. I don’t care if it takes the entire year, I want him back.”

“Yes, Orochimaru-sama, I won’t fail this time,” she said, bowing. Without another word, she left the main room, retreating footsteps quickly fading. Valuable enough not to kill  _ again _ . 

Sasuke kept his eyes on Orochimaru, willing the Sharingan to remain inactivated. The last thing he needed was to threaten him right now, if only because that stupid ramen list was still there last he checked, and he didn’t need to create more trouble for himself. Over the months, Sasuke realized that most of what Orochimaru did came down to his presence, the fear that he could instill in people before he even opened his mouth or moved; it was an effective strategy, there was nothing worse than someone’s own imagination. Layering a genjutsu on himself had been catastrophic the first thousands of times, but he’d finesse the ability over the months enough to get himself through most of Orochimaru’s...mood swings. 

“How do you expect to kill Itachi if you can’t even fight a prisoner that hasn’t seen combat in two years?”

Months ago, he would have curled his fists and tried to punch him. In a few years, he might try that again--preferably, actually landing a few hits. But for now, he stared, ignoring his quickened pulse. “I intent to kill Itachi, not bring him unharmed back to you.”

“Sasuke-kun, we’ve talked about this. If you don’t practice killing, you’re going to freeze up when it happens--”

_ Wrong _ . Sasuke was going to kill that man, even if it meant dying too--he’d blow them both up, if that’s what it took. A bomb couldn’t possibly be hard to mess up. But in the meantime, he wasn’t killing anyone. He didn’t want to kill anyone, unnecessary, or cruelly. That would just be like him, and Sasuke wasn’t his brother. “I doubt it.”

“But don’t worry. I have just the thing,” Orochimaru stood up; Sasuke remained rooted on the spot, although he couldn’t help but watch the man with some reservation. “As your teacher, you know I’m interested in helping you improve, Sasuke-kun.” 

Sasuke followed him, out the room, down three corridors and two staircases, until they stood in front of dungeons. Obviously, every village had their own prisoners; traitors, like himself, or dangerous rouge ninja from other villages, invaders--keeping prisoners was required if peace, whatever that meant, was to be maintained. But...Orochimaru’s prisoners were poor people from neighboring villages, powerless to defend themselves; most of them were grown men and women, children often easily impressionable and more likely to join the ranks. 

He stepped inside, too used to the smell to react outwardly. The last time he’d been down here, Kabuto was working on destroying pain receptors...and had been wildly unsuccessful. 

Once he realized that Orochimaru was waiting on something, he bit out, “what?”

Orochimaru waved at the cells in front of them. “Practice, Sasuke-kun. It’ll be useful, just like training.”

He stared at the cells. At least twenty men, draped in torned, old clothes were in each one, sitting down, laying down, all of them too weak to remain standing. Some of them, the ones who must have been there longer, had protruding cheekbones, and prominent collarbones, as the skin was slowly sucked into their bones from lack of food. None of them were looking at them, their heads facing the wall, or their eyes staring at the ground. 

“Sasuke-kun, it’s important. Every shinobi kills.”

Not people who hadn’t done anything wrong. Or...shinobi did kill anyone they were ordered to murder, but he wasn’t going to do it. He closed his eyes, opening them slowly, his surroundings adjusting to the Sharingan, faster than they once had. Still no one turned to look at them. There were, upon closer inspection, twenty-seven men in the cell directly in front of him, and twenty-two in the cell to the right; unreasonable numbers, because those cells shouldn’t be holding more than ten people. Had Orochimaru taken over another town, with its resistors crammed in the cells now? He hadn’t been paying much attention to the political gains over the past months, or years, but by now, people must have fled the nearby areas. No one in their right mind would stay to end up as human guinea pigs. As he concentrated his chakra on his hand, he felt Orochimaru’s eyes on him, sizing him up, but his presence was not as distracting as it had once been, the chirping of birds not as distracting as it had once been either. Just as well. With another burst, he sent out forty-nine strikes, enough current to contract muscles and induce collapses from everyone, but not enough to murder. 

He wouldn’t do that.

Ever.

It was unnecessary. 

“Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru said, his voice cutting through the fading birds. “Excellent aim. But they are all still alive; I think, once again, you missed the point of the exercise.”

Of course, he would call it an exercise--like human life was a toy to toss out when it became boring or useless. Personally, he didn’t tolerate weak people, not anymore, but there was a difference between the weakness of shinobi and  _ civilian _ s, and one look at them, Sharingan or not, confirmed that none of them could even feel their chakra, let alone mold it into power. The room became less sharp, but no one was moving still. “Doesn’t Kabuto need them alive?”

Orochimaru guided him out of the dungeons with a firm hand on his shoulder. Somehow, Sasuke didn’t try to shrug it off; he knew better. “So thoughtful. Kabuto will be happy, he’s always been under the impression you don’t like him, Sasuke-kun. Maybe you two will finally be friends, hm? Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Whatever,” Sasuke said. He’d poked his own eyes out before becoming civil with that sadistic  _ medic _ ; he didn’t care at all about medics, but he was offended on their behalf that someone doing the exact opposite of healing paraded himself under the profession. The hand on his shoulder tightened, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Are you going to train me today, or am I supposed to just keep knocking out your prisoners?”

“Sasuke-kun, you’re so impatient. After losing Suigetsu, I would think that you do need practice knocking out prisoners. Remind me again, how was it that he slipped past you? Surely, lightning can take water, hm?”

“Maybe if your mission scroll had been more detailed, I would have been able to prepare better,” Sasuke replied, turning in the direction of his chambers, but the hand steered him in the opposite direction.

“It’s called improvising, Sasuke-kun; quite a valuable skill.”

“Right,” Sasuke drawled out, “so is that yes on training, or can I go?”

“I was thinking we could play a game for the rest of the day,” Orochimaru began, “it’ll be fun, believe me.”

Sasuke would have to be an idiot to believe anything that came out of his mouth, but he kept that thought carefully away from his face. “Is it going to help me become stronger?” He asked once they were standing outside of the hideout, the air considerably less moist out in the open, the light almost blinding compared to the flickering fire inside. Orochimaru rarely stepped outside--would destroy his alluring personna--but something had to be said by the way he almost faded into the background.

“No,” Orochimaru said. “But it’ll make you faster.”

There was just enough time to activate the Sharingan and leap out of the way before a snake was crashing against the ground. One of Orochimaru’s bigger snakes, too, and--one of Sasuke’s least favorite ones, the one he had to chase and steal venom from before Manda even considered granting him an audience. A second after landing on a tree, the wood fell apart, sucking him inside. Not a genjutsu. Just the tree losing consistency. Fun. Before even putting both feet on the ground, Mizuchi was on him, and Sasuke was moving again. After the third tree disappeared from underneath him, he considered just flying, but he wouldn’t put it pass Orochimaru to simply cut one of his wings, if only to see if they could grow back. Sasuke actually liked flying, it did for a quick get-away and most opponents couldn’t fly without summons. So that was a no to flying. But that only left him leaping from one tree to another, avoiding the hundred snakes and the uneven ground. Considering Itachi fought mostly using genjutsu, being fast wouldn’t exactly give him an advantage, but he understood the exercise for what it was: if Orochimaru wanted to release some...tension by making him run around in circles avoiding poisonous snakes, he would do it. Especially if it meant not trying to repeat his rather implausible story about Suigetsu. 

\-------------

The Sharingan faded away.  _ Nothing _ . Letting Suigetsu go, sending him to the Uchiha’s sacred shrine. For nothing. And now, where was he going to leave it? Orochimaru had an annoying habit of going through his quarters whenever he felt like it, and Sasuke might be a traitor to Konoha, might not care about being a traitor, but he wasn’t a traitor to his clan. 

He couldn’t keep it. There was nothing useful in the scriptures, nothing to explain why Naruto’s handwriting kept appearing all over his body, anyway. With a sigh, he placed everything in his backpack, strapping his katana across his chest. He closed his bedroom’s door. The hallways was empty, fire flickering on torches. He turned left, heading to the main room. Orochimaru would be there, now, perhaps in a meetings, perhaps not. 

There was a meeting. A lord. Orochimaru was listening, but his eyes were fixed on him. Sasuke stood by the door, staring, listening. Apparently, something was stolen. Something special, valuable, something that a lord would gladly pay to recover. Good money. 

Good  _ people _ .

Fucking asshole. 

Sasuke continued to refuse to murder anyone, but that lord was a high contender. His face remained passive, for the rest of the meeting. Orochimaru waved the lord away, as his attention dwindled, but not before promising to retrieve the lord’s treasure. In exchange for a few children. Sasuke contained the glare as the lord left the room, a smug look in his eyes. 

“Sasuke-kun, barging into meetings is not polite.”

Neither was conspiring to exchange childrens for whatever thing that lord lost. He kept that thought carefully away from his face. “I’m heading out.”

“You’re heading out?”

“Yes,” Sasuke replied. 

“Did I assign you a mission?”

Sasuke shook his head. “Just last month you were complaining about me leaving without letting you know. I’m letting you right now.”

“Sasuke-kun, I was telling you,” Orochimaru stood up. “That you needed permission to leave, not to let me know when you were leaving.”

Sasuke swallowed a chuckle, but might have rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. I need fresh air. I’ll be back in a week.”

“Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru said. Sasuke heard footsteps behind him. “I understand you are becoming a teenager, but no, you do not leave without--” 

“I’ll go get whatever it is that lord needed.”

“You stood there, listening to the conversation for half an hour, and you don’t know what was stolen?”

Sasuke shrugged. Mostly to shrug off some of Orochimaru’s chakra, but it was a nice show of his attitude and how much he did not give a fuck. “Just marvelling at the thought of someone coming to you asking you to find something that was stolen.” He had no proof, but it would just be like Orochimaru to steal whatever in the first place. That was the kind of slimy shit that Orochimaru liked to do on his free time. 

“Someone...misplaced a sword of his.”

Sasuke snorted. “How does someone  _ lose  _ a sword.”

“Last sighting was a week ago, Sasuke-kun.” Orochimaru spun him around, looking more annoyed, more pissed than he’d looked in a long time. He handed him a scroll. “Bring it back. Be back in three days.”

Sasuke glanced down at the scroll.  _ Urg _ . Whatever. Maybe someone had misplaced it near Konoha--where was the lord from, anyway? Did it matter? He was fast. He could probably sneak into Konoha and then find the goddam sword. Ha. Without a word, he left the room. Left the hideout, reading over the scroll as he settled into a quick pace. It was a sword, apparently a century old. Laced with gold--not particularly practical, but worth it. Uh. Whatever. 

By the time he was in the outskirts of Orochimaru’s territory, the sun had been replaced by a full moon. He was no sensor, but he was about ninety percent sure that no one was following him. Which was helpful because no matter how much he tried, he had no idea what he would tell Orochimaru if someone did see him heading to Konoha. He pushed his hair back, picking up the pace. 

It was close to three years since he’d deflected. A lot of years to think about the fact that the only reason he managed to deflect was because Konoha was recovering from the Sound invasion. Security would be tighter this time around. Presumably. Ideally. But Konoha always did seem to have a problem with invasion, infiltrators. It didn’t matter, of course. Sasuke could sneak in. And out. 

The air grew warmer as he entered Konoha’s outskirts. He picked up the pace. Already half a day lost. He’ll be heading out in another day, of course. The problem was the gates. If only he had the same ability that Suigetsu had, to burst into water, travel through water, and reform down a river. Whatever. At least he’d had the foresight to travel without the Sound’s traditional wardrobe. Orochimaru had a thing about him wearing it. Just one of those things that Orochimaru had about him--probably trying to decide which outfit looked best on his future body. 

He halted on a branch, crouching down. He pulled his hood over his face, activating the Sharingan as he spotted three Genins, obviously fresh out of the Academy, and their Jounin instructor, pulling weeds. Those Genin were nonthreatening, of course, but the Jonin could pose a problem. He crouched down, waiting for the Jonin to react to him, but maybe all those hide and seek games with Karin paid off. He retraced his steps, keeping ten miles away from that farm and that team. 

But that was the only team that he encountered. Konoha’s security was abysmal, especially after spending so many years with Orochimaru and his paranoia. There were a few close calls, of course, but that’s all that they were. A few Chunin on patrol. One or two Genins training late. Maybe Konoha’s economic downfall continued and all higher-ranked shinobi were out of the village, performing missions. 

Entering the Uchiha district was...it was not what he thought it would be like. The air was thicker, but it had to be his imagination. The homes blurred together, but that also was his imagination. He knew that. Buildings did not shift by themselves.  _ Obviously _ . He walked, taking his time, like he had all the time in the world, like he was not a traitor, would not be tackled by any and all Konoha shinobis who saw him. 

But his feet refused to run. He’d run so much when he was younger, rushing home to make it to dinner, but for some reason, it was important to walk. Right now. Taking a deep breath, he sidestepped the main house, his parents’ house. The koi fish were dead. Obviously, had been dead for a long time. He knew that, and yet, there was something burning in the pit of his stomach. 

Over the last few years, he’d gone to bed, telling himself, accepting the fact, that he left Konoha for his own good, to have a fighting chance at killing his brother. He hadn’t lost sleep over deserting the village, but--

He had never quite considered how he abandoned the Uchiha, too.

With a sigh, he entered the Naka Shrine, keeping his eyes on the ground. He slipped his backpack off his shoulder, pulling out the stone monument, setting it down on its resting place. He remained standing until his feet hurt. Until his brain caught up with the time. He picked up the backpack, less heavy than before. And left. Up the stairs, out the shrine. The sunlight burned his eyes. 

“Sasuke-kun.”

He turned around. Sakura looked older, her outfit darker, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a Chunin vest, green gloves. Carrying a white flowers.  _ Great _ . He took a step back. Sakura took a step forward. 

She opened her mouth.

“What are you doing?”

She stared at him. Dropped the flowers. Incredible. He actually had less than no time for this. Judging by the position of the sun, it was past noon. That was half of the time allotted for his mission and still, he had not found the sword, had not looked for it, had not the faintest idea of where it would be, where he should start looking for it. And Sakura was staring at him. He turned around. 

It would be some time before Sakura got reinforcements. A nice head start.  _ Fuck, what was he going to tell Orochimaru when one of his spies sent word of this _ ?

“Wait!”

He would absolutely do that. He picked up the pace. Sakura, though, was without a doubt giving chase.  _ Fuck _ . He halted outside the Uchiha district. At least it was already far from the center of the village, already on the outskirts of it. He turned around, slamming Sakura against the tree. Her body lost consciousness, lulled to sleep, courtesy of the Sharingan. He picked her up, set her on the ground, against the tree. 

And sprinted back to Sound.

Orochimaru kept him on a tight leash. Training grounds. Bedroom. Training grounds. Infirmary. Bedroom. Understandably, he returned without a sword, and with rumors flourishing around Orochimaru, whispering of where Sasuke had been. Sasuke denied it at first, having no shame or qualms about doing so, but--

But then, Orochimaru did something to force the memories out of him. Sasuke managed to swallow back the Naka Shrine’s hidden room and Naruto’s magical handwriting, but everything else surfaced. And evidently, the Forest of Death had been a joke preview to Orochimaru’s true fury. It had been impossible to breathe, but he had managed to dodge most of the attacks--not attacking back, of course, because he wasn’t that much of an idiot, but managing to dodge, something that was impossible a few years ago. 

So despite the new restrictions on his freedom and the bruises that always littered his body, he was feeling...not terrible. 

Until he woke up one morning, a spiral inked on his forehead. He rubbed it, to no avail, just like his palms years ago, just like the Ramen list. He pushed his bangs down. Orochimaru expected him in fifteen minutes, ready to spar. Not an ideal situation--why in the world did Naruto keep drawing those spirals, anyway? What a fucking idiot. He clenched his katana, pressing his hair down. 

How stupid would it be if he wet his bangs, to keep the spiral hidden? How would that work, when he was supposed to be sparing with Orochimaru? Why did the stupid spiral look like Konoha’s symbol? As if Orochimaru was not worried that Sasuke would betray him and run back to Konoha. 

He stared at himself, biting back a sigh. His bangs were wet, but it did nothing to hide the drawing. Bit back a groan. Took a deep breath and walked out his bedroom. Turned left. Another left. Then, a right. He stood in front of Orochimaru, a Sound shinobi leaving the room, holding a scroll. 

“Sasuke-kun. You’re early. I thought you’d be sleeping a little longer.”

He relaxed his jaw. Swallowed  _ something _ . “I came for a forehead protector.”

Orochimaru looked him over. From his feet to his head, down to his feet again. “Why?”

“I understand that what I did was wrong and I want to make it clear that I hold no loyalty to Konoha,” he said. Swallowed something else. “And any loyalty I have is to you.” Any loyalty he had was to his clan, but he could pretend. 

Orochimaru stood up. Paused at the exit. Sasuke followed him down the corridor towards the supply room. It was a long walk, passed thousands of corridors. Orochimaru knew how to keep his valuables safe, after all. 

“You’ve been spending more time with Kabuto, have you not?”

He sure had. More often than not, he was on his back, laying on a bed, as Kabuto stitched him, fixed him up. But Orochimaru knew that, so Sasuke could only assume it was a rhetorical question. 

“Has he given you lessons on how to stay on my good side?”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “He has not. I don’t believe Kabuto wants to share those particularly tricks with me.”

“I imagine he does not. Though I imagine that maybe, you should learn them anyway.”

Orochimaru unlocked the door. There were thousand of scrolls lined up against the wall, long and short swords behind glass. A glass cabinet with thousands of containers. This was a room that Sasuke rarely saw, was definitely not allow within five meters of it. Too many precious secrets, a few forbidden jutsus, no doubt. Orochimaru walked to a cabinet, grabbing a forehead protector, and tossing it in his direction. 

Sasuke caught it. Turned around. Put it on, tied it behind his head. It’d been so long since he lost the last one, since it dropped next to Naruto, and now because of him, he was branding himself with Orochimaru’s symbol, like he had not been branded years ago anyway. Though this was more accessible for others to view and hopefully, more appeasing to Orochimaru. It was to cover the stupid drawing, but he wouldn’t mind been allowed to walk outside the hideout again. 

Orochimaru headed to the kitchens. Filled up a glass with water. Left the kitchens, took a right. Sasuke squinted at the sunlight. He had seen the sun for a few weeks. 

“You know what makes your brother such a powerful man, Sasuke-kun?” Orochimaru asked, turning to look at him. 

The Mangekyou Sharingan, obviously. But Sasuke was largely sure that Orochimaru had no idea what that was, and he had no desire to divulge such sensitive information to the man who was planning to commandeer his body in a few months. 

“Sasuke-kun?”

“His inability to value human life?”

Orochimaru smiled. “There’s nothing to value about human life. I had hoped you would have learned that by now. But no, although it is commendable,” he said, as he swirled the cup in his hand. “It’s his stealth. The subtlety in his attacks. Perhaps even, his polite nature.”

_ Polite nature _ ? The man was a homicidal monster. But Orochimaru was too, so maybe to him, Itachi was polite. A disconcerting thought. He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re trying to get me to call you Orochimaru-sama, it’s still not happening.”

“I’m not,” he replied, more easily than necessary. “I’ve let it go. You’re an angsty teenager.” He almost shrugged, but did not, instead swirled the cup again, took a step, shortening the distance between them. “Now, your brother’s movements always have a purpose, but more importantly, are always fluid. There is no wasted energy or effort, and I’m sorry to say, Sasuke-kun, but you have not quite mastered that.”

Sasuke bit his tongue. It was all true. He had not. He  _ snuck _ around fine. But during fights, he improvised more than planned. At some point, that had not been the case, but it was hard to plan as he fought Orochimaru and slowly, his body and mind adapted to improvising, relaying on the Sharingan for a few seconds’ warning. Fighting for his life, the method had never failed him, but with stronger opponents--Orochimaru, his brother--that didn’t work, wouldn’t work. 

With a smile, Orochimaru placed the cup of water on his head. “A few rules, Sasuke-kun. Don’t touch it. Don’t spill it. I’ll try to kill you and you try to kill me. If you fail, Kabuto is waiting for a healthy person to try a couple of new ideas. Questions?”

Sasuke shook his head. He always had good posture. Of course, it didn’t matter when someone running towards him, clearly eighty percent serious about the killing part--the other twenty as a courtesy to his future body. The cup slowed him down, but...it helped him think, at least three steps ahead, just to figure out where he was going to land to prevent it from spilling, how he was going to dodge so not a single drop of water fell. 

Except a few did.

Orochimaru didn’t so much as picked him up, so much as dragged him to the infirmary. Dropping him on a bed, telling Kabuto to  _ play nice _ , leaving them alone with a chuckle. Sasuke kept his eyes opened, mostly to make sure that the forehead protector stayed on his forehead. At least Kabuto was quiet, as he rolled his sleeve up. 

Kabuto pulled on his arm. Tied him to the bed, the shackles lined with soft cloth. “Believe me, it’s for your benefit.”

“How considerate.”

Kabuto chuckled, as he pulled a restrain over his forehead. Another one around his neck. Another one on his other arm. “Can’t hurt Orochimaru-sama’s body permanently, after all.” He held a cloth over his mouth. 

A second later, Sasuke bit down on it, glaring.  _ Asshole _ . Cold air brushed against his arm as Kabuto rolled the sleeve up. From the corner of his vision, he saw Kabuto turn around, walking to a cabinet--out of his vision--until he appeared again, holding a miniature piece of cotton and a needle with clear liquid. Kabuto ran the cotton along his forearm, humming to himself. Probably to annoy him. 

“Sasuke-kun? You’re the first test subject, so pay attention to any symptoms,” Kabuto said. “Or the next time you spilled the water, I’ll just make it a little tiny bit less...bearable.”

The needle went into his arm. Sasuke clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to pull his arm away. Kabuto walked to the other side, grabbed his other arm. His pulse. Taking his pulse. Ants crawled up his arm, the needle stuck there, empty, but protruding from the skin. The Sharingan flared to life as a groan bubbled up his throat, suffocated back by the cloth. The Sharingan faded away. His shoulder throbbed, the scorching pain from the seal, as if it was new, as if Sasuke couldn’t control it, as if he was kneeling in the Forest of Death, clutching Sakura’s hand in agony. He pushed his own chakra--

Screamed into the cloth. Something ripped his chest open. Tore his arm off of him. The room bled. No. No. Kabuto wouldn’t destroy Orochimaru’s body like this.  _ No. _ There was something else. There was a swarm of bees zooming across his face, from one ear to the other, blocking everything else. 

Sharingans stared back at him, hovering over his face, spinning on top of--

_ No! _ Nothing was there. He knew that. There was nothing. He spat out the gag, biting down on his tongue, his bottom lip, until it bled, and the room lost the red shade, the eyes faded, the bees stopped, the ants paused. His stomach clenched. The restraints were gone. Someone--Kabuto propped him up, tilting his head to the side, holding a clipboard.

“Not bad, Sasuke-kun. I guess next time, I’ll have to properly gag you. That was cheating. Symptoms?”

He glared. It sent painful throbs across his temples. “What did you--” 

“Symptoms?”

Sasuke coughed. Blood dripped down his chin. “Murderous rage.”

“Quite hilarious, Sasuke-kun.” He pushed him down. “I guess we need to try again.”

Sasuke shoved him back, getting off the bed. His body swayed, but that was fine. “If you’re working so hard on mimicking a Genjutsu, why not just learn to perform Genjutsu?”

“Such a clever boy, you are, Sasuke-kun. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Sasuke glared, stomped out, closed the door as loud as he could. But in the privacy of his chambers, he placed a cup of water on his head, and practiced. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love karin and sasuke nad will die mad that canon went there

It was Orochimaru’s fault. Not that Sasuke could ever tell him that. Obviously. But if he hadn’t send him on that stupid mission, he would have never found Naruto. If he’d never seen Naruto, the idiot would have never lost his shit at the sight of him wearing the Sound symbol on his forehead. If he had never lost his shit, then he would have never attacked him  _ like that _ , somehow managing to get the forehead protector off of him. 

Would have never seen the spiral. 

Sasuke rubbed his chin. With soap, with a dry cloth, with some of Kabuto’s  _ lotion _ . But nothing. Nothing worked. The dick, the drawing of a dick, remained on his skin, tattooed there, with black and pink ink. 

The fucking idiot. 

He stared at himself, his eyes fixed on the drawing until an orange curve appeared on his left cheek. 

_ A- _

Sasuke was going to kill him.

_ S- _

Forget obtaining the Mangekyou, he was going to kill him out of principle. 

_ S- _

He rubbed his cheek, clawing at it, reddening it, until it was raw, a few scratches away from bleeding, but letters continued to appear, in the same orange ink, in the same stupid handwriting. 

_ ASSHOLE _ .

Sasuke stomped out of his bathroom, heading to the bed stand. Grabbed a pen and scribbled on his left forearm--with considerable better handwriting than Naruto’s.  _ Stop writing on me, idiot _ .

He held his breath, heading to the door. Locking it. Orochimaru was not a fan of locks, but Sasuke couldn’t risk anyone walking in right now and seeing the way he looked. A dick on his chin. The word  _ asshole _ on his cheek. His own handwriting on his forearm. He took the pen, locked himself in the bathroom. Took another breath, watching words appear underneath his message. 

_ I’ll stop when you return home _ .

He clenched the pen. Stared down at his feet, until the headache recedeed, until the room stopped spinning. Over the years, the situation had been nothing short of annoying and inconvenient, but not threatening. If Orochimaru found out, there were a few possibilities that would not end well for him. First, he could freak out, lock him up, and keep him in a cell until he took over his body. Or, he could extract the Sharingan and place them in a body that did not have a sickening connection to another shinobi. Or, his curiosity could be piqued and spend the rest of the time that Sasuke had to plan how to evade his deal with Orochimaru, experimenting on him. Until he found a way to break the connection or a way to use it to his advantage. Or finding a new body to which the Sharingan would be transferred. 

He gripped the sink, watching his knuckles turned white. He could not let anyone find out about this. Picking up the pen again, he scribbled under Naruto’s threat.  _ I haven’t killed my brother and I can’t go to prison yet. _

The message appeared quicker this time. Barely legible.  _ Sucks for you _ .

Sasuke groaned, cussed under his breath. A triangle appeared on the knuckles, on his right hand. Another triangle. Whiskers, and--the fucking asshole. It wasn’t even a good drawing, evidently, that fucking idiot was no artist. It looked like a mixture between a fox and a cat. Two minutes later, there was a flower underneath it. And then a book. 

_ What’s your favorite animal? _

Sasuke took another breath. And then another one. Stared at the ceiling for too many minutes...too many, as when he looked down again, to his arms, they were covered in  _ hello _ s,  _ are you there? _ s, and  _ come back _ . 

He grabbed the pen again, looking for an empty patch of skin to write on.  _ I’m going to kill you _ .

_ I’m in Konoha, if you want to come kill me right now _ .

He could not head to Konoha right now. Obviously. Orochimaru might be letting him out more lately, but decidedly not to Konoha, especially not after Sasuke told him that he saw Naruto on the last mission. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him that, but he would have found out eventually. He always did, and Sasuke was okay with lying, but not when he couldn’t get away with it. And even if he could head out because Orochimaru let him, or turned a blind eye on it, he could not possibly leave Konoha again, his ass would be shoved in prison and his chakra would be bound. All things that could not happen--at least until Itachi was dead. 

Another word appeared on his collarbone, but Sasuke couldn’t decipher it. Orochimaru was expecting him in half an hour, and he couldn’t show up looking like this. More importantly, he could not show up with Naruto still writing on him like he was a children’s coloring book. With a sigh, he wrote underneath the chicken scratch.

_ I’ll return after killing Itachi _ .

_ That could take forever _ . Huh. That was legible. 

_ It won’t. Just stop _ .

_ Even if you come back, granny will throw you in jail.  _

_ You want me to go to jail? _

_ No. But I want you to come back. _

Sasuke grimaced at the conversation down his chest. Could he have any worse luck? But time was running out. He glanced at the door. Closed. Locked. Naruto wouldn’t stop, and he already ran through the scenarios with Orochimaru. All unacceptable. All bad. Terrible. And--

Well, he was thinking of deflecting soon. Certainly before Orochimaru tried to take over his body. And Orochimaru  _ deserved _ to see justice, the ghost of his victims littered all of his hideouts. Sasuke wasn’t planning on killing him, personally, because he only yearned to kill his brother, but surely, someone in Konoha would want to see him dead? He killed the Third Hokage, after all, and destroyed Konoha’s economy and tarnished a large portion of its reputation across the Great Nations. 

_ Stop writing on me.  _ The pen hovered over his skin. With a sigh, he continued.  _ Stop writing and I’ll give you Sound information _ .

It took five minutes--five less minutes to get ready before training with Orochimaru--for another message to appear. _And I’ll give it to grandma._ _Fine. I’ll stop for now in exchange of one secret._

Sasuke considered. A secret not valuable enough in case Orochimaru found out. A secret worthwhile enough to keep Naruto’s pen capped and away from his body.  _ There’s another Uzumaki near Suna. She works for Orochimaru.  _

_ WHAT????????? _

_ Now, keep your part of the deal and stop writing on me _ .  _ And wash everything off _ .

_ Sorry, asshole. Permanent ink. Will come off in a few weeks.  _

Sasuke glared at himself. Fucking unbelievable. It’s not like Sasuke’s own handwriting was disappearing from his own body, so Naruto must have a dick on his face too, must have the word asshole on his cheek, must have stupid drawings and words all over his arms and chest. Fucking asshole. Having no shame to walk around--

He shook his head. Taking another thousand of deep breaths, a headache once again looming near his temples, trying to think. Orochimaru was expecting him. And he looked like this. Alright, it was fine. Sasuke had clothes for stealth missions. He washed his face, perhaps, stupidly, expecting it all to disappear, like it was a fucking nightmare, another one of his night terrors, but it did not. He glanced at his door. Still closed. Locked. Headed to his closet, rummaging through his clothes until he found Orochimaru’s least favorite outfit. He put it on, slipped his fingers into black gloves. And with a sigh, pulled up the black mask to cover his chin and cheeks, to cover half of his face. Like this, he looked like--

He shook his head. He checked himself over one last time and then headed outside. Predictably, Orochimaru was less than amused. Sasuke did his best to take his displeasure on stride, and had enough speed to avoid most of the attacks, the ones that would have required Kabuto looking him over. Fortunately, he only ended up with bruises, a busted lip--safely hidden under the mask, and sore muscles--nothing for which Orochimaru would send him to Kabuto; after all, there was much to learn from  _ inconvenient pain, Sasuke-kun, learn how to dodge better _ .

Sasuke forego dinner in favor of heading back to his chambers. How did Kakashi eat without anyone seen his face? Whatever. He’ll think about that later. For now, he could just sleep. 

Except.

There was no much sleep, couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, everytime he so much as blinked longer than five seconds, he felt hands on him, prying away his clothing, his mask, to find the words and drawings underneath. 

How long did permanent ink last?

The next morning, he crawled out of bed, doing his best to ignore his stomach twisting, tying knots in protest over the lack of food. He dragged himself to the dining hall, but it was crawling with Sound shinobi, with fifty people who would sell him to Orochimaru without a second thought, without even a promised prize. Just out of pure spite, to see him cast down from what they perceived was special treatment.

He filled a cup with water and turned on his feet. Yeah, some treatment. Headed to the training grounds and placed the cup on his head. Over the past months, he’d managed to keep it on his head for longer than thirty minutes and had found that it was...useful, to think, to clear his head. It helped to ignore the bottomless pain in his stomach and the weight dragging him down from a lack of sleep--it was stupid, too, when had sleep ever been a necessary aspect of his life?

Kabuto called it a side effect of  _ puberty _ , his  _ beauty sleep _ , which--fuck him, very much so. 

He set the cup down, still filled with every drop of water from the kitchen, and was about to pull down his mask to drink it and give his stomach some reprieve, when the doors swung opened. Sasuke pushed himself to a standing position, ignoring the burning calves in favor of keeping his eyes on Orochimaru, his eyes wild, fury contorting every feature. His chakra was pouring off of him, thickening the air of the chamber. The mask over his nose didn’t help--how did Kakashi do it? Why did Kakashi do it? Why was he standing there thinking about Kakashi when Orochimaru was looking at him like a piece of meat?

Did he find out? Did he know that Sasuke was without a doubt, connected to Naruto, for some reason, in some way? Did he know that Sasuke had just betrayed him?

“We’ll practice Ninjutsu today.”

Sasuke barely had time to activate the Sharingan before Orochimaru was running through hand signs, and the floor was shifting under his weight. 

Seven copied jutsus later, Orochimaru paused. Gave a slight nod, in the direction of the door. Sasuke limped after him, his clothes charred, but still covering him,  _ thankfully _ . They made it back to the main hall, the fifty shinobi from the dining hall, kneeling on the floor, neatly in rows, leaving room for Orochimaru to walk to the front, to stand before the snake statues. Sasuke stood behind him, on the left, while Kabuto stood on the right. The silence dragged on, Sasuke unable to pick up any breathing from the shinobi, any movement from them, as Orochimaru stood there, more immobile than his own statues. 

“Our eastern base was attacked,” Orochimaru said, at last. Sasuke kept his face impassive, a practiced, bored expression covering his racing heart. “Scout the area. Bring me back Karin Uzumaki.” Evidently, he was enraged. Normally, he would flourish some of his speeches with sweet nothings, or throw a tantrum and murder a few of his men. Not bark orders. Not like this. And when the room was empty, except for Kabuto and himself, Orochimaru turned to stare at him. “We’ll practice Taijutsu outside.”

Sasuke caught the smirk on Kabuto’s face. But at the end of the day, he was getting stronger. He avoided the majority of attacks, though Orochimaru was clearly not amused. Even if Sasuke was gasping, his shoulder dislocated,  _ again _ , by the time it ended. And then Orochimaru sent him to walk a hundred laps on his hands around the compound with a  _ you need more upper body strength _ . He kept his mouth shut and obliged, the ‘Sasuke-kun’ missing from the sentence not lost on him. 

Orochimaru walked a meter ahead of him the entire time. And then told him to do fifty more. By the time Orochimaru walked away, the sun had disappeared, replaced by a starless darkness, and cold air. Sasuke landed on his knees, rubbing his shoulder, wincing as he rolled it back into position. It was no secret that Orochimaru sometimes took some things out on him, under the guise of training, and it was no secret that Sasuke thrived on that because he needed to get stronger and nothing had worked more than continuously facing off with Orochimaru and getting his ass handed to him time and time again. 

He pushed himself to his feet, his knees buckling under his weight. His legs, apparently forgetting how to work. 

But this time, it felt different, it felt more personal than it should be, felt more sadistic than before. He descended the stairs, stepping into the hideout. His stomach had long ago stopped protesting the lack of food, instead leaving him hollow, with a gnawing pain. But instead of heading to the kitchen, he took a right. To his bedroom. He locked the door. Took a shower. The ink was there, but the incriminating words across his chest were beginning to fade. The warm water relaxed his muscles, but he hurried through the shower--if someone barged in...he couldn’t do that. 

He suited up again, covering half of his face, covering his arms and chest and hands. He crawled under the covers. And stared up at the ceiling. They were looking for Karin. Orochimaru must think that she betrayed him, but she would have never done that. Konoha--more likely, Naruto--must have found her. Transported her back to Konoha for questioning. He glanced at the door quickly, his heart hammering against his chest, for some stupid, wild reason, and threw the covers to the floor, off of him. Cold air rushed him, but it only helped him get up, rubbing his eyes and closing his bathroom door. 

The pen was still on top of the sink. He checked the lock was on, and then grabbed it, taking off his left glove with his teeth. There was space on the side of his left finger.  _ Where is she? _

_ Questioning _ .

That came fast. Did Naruto spend the entire time looking at himself, waiting for another message to be written? Did it matter? Could he judge Naruto, even if that was the case? Sasuke hadn’t been staring at himself, largely because Orochimaru hovered over him the entire time, but if he hadn’t, Sasuke would have, just to prevent anyone else from seeing it first. He stared at the word for a few minutes. Questioning. How many secrets did Karin hold? How long would she last, under interrogation, before she spilled them all? How helpful was she to Orochimaru? Would he forgive the presumed treason when he found her? Took her back?

There was no point in caring. He shouldn’t care, he knew that. Obviously, he didn’t care. But it was his fault and he’d been planning to have Karin track Itachi. She couldn’t do that if she died, under Konoha or Orochimaru. 

_ Sound is looking for her _ .

_ Is that the secret for the day? _

_ Fuck off.  _ Sighing, he added.  _ Yes _ .

_ Grandma Tsunade wants to know where I got my intel. I’m going to tell her. _

He stared at the message. Why was he such a fucking idiot? 

_ Do not tell her. _

_ I’m trying to get you under her good graces for a pardon, idiot. _

Sasuke was, evidently, too tired to find an argument for that. He set the pen down, putting the glove back on. Checked the door again. And slid down the door, resting his head against the wall, and closing his eyes. 

\--------------------

Sasuke jumped on another branch. Landed on the next one. And then, the next one, the curse seal finally receding, his heart slowing down against his chest, his lungs pulling in more air with each breath. He slowed down when the statue of the First Hokage came into view, across the waterfall. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that he was alone, not followed, not hunted--it would take some hours before Kabuto organized Orochimaru’s followers to hunt him down, but most of those hours had passed already. 

He fell on the ground, his body deciding that it was time to let him know exactly how fucked he was. Dry blood covered his shirt. His own. His left ankle was sore and at some point, he’d heard a sickening  _ crack _ , but it was not broken anymore. His head was pounding and he must have lost too much blood, but--

But he was alive.

Orochimaru was dead.

And he was alive, still in possession of his body--as tattered as it was at the moment. 

He grimaced as he took out a pen from his pocket and rolled up his sleeve.  _ Where are you _ ? 

It was stupid to think that Naruto would reply. Half a day ago, he hovered outside of Orochimaru’s chamber, listening in, eavesdropping, on a briefing--Konoha attacked, the Jinchuriki,  _ Naruto _ , taken. Almost immediately, his shoulder began to bleed--healing itself almost immediately, but bleeding nonetheless. 

And the realization struck him. 

And things went to shit after that. 

But Orochimaru was dead and his body still belonged to him. 

Sasuke had to start looking for the silver lining in his life, and that was a silver lining, if there ever was one. 

He glanced down at his forearm, his words clearly written, but with no new words added. Fuck. With a sigh, he pushed himself to cross the waterfall, jump onto Konoha’s territory. They might lock him up. They were probably going to lock him up, but if Akatsuki took Naruto, then it wouldn’t be long before everything went to shit, he’d heard enough rumors to know that the hosts died and Sasuke had never been able to heal himself on his own, as magical injuries tore him apart. Naruto was getting hurt, and if Naruto got hurt, so did he. 

And if Naruto was killed, then he would drop dead, too. His brother was very much alive, so he couldn’t die yet. It was stupid. And it sucked. But he needed to find Naruto, and that meant going to Konoha. It was fine. They had just suffered another invasion--besides, he wasn’t planning on staying. There couldn’t be any guards on duty right now, loitering in front of the cells, it wouldn’t be too difficult--

He fell on his knee. His torso was pierced, blood dripping onto the floor. He swallowed a groan, clutching his side, as he felt the skin patching itself up. He picked up the pace, not stopping until he saw the gates, half crumbled to the ground, half standing--much like himself. 

At least he had the foresight to lose the Sound symbol at the mouth of the hideout.

Konoha looked worse than it did when Sound attacked. Most buildings were nothing more than dust, though the medical response was commendable, as white tents littered the street. Made sense, the Fifth was the greatest medical shinobi in the world. He slipped down the street, avoiding eyes, his pace urgent, as if he had somewhere to be to help out, but not running as a fugitive. He turned corners, doing his best to ignore the desperate screams of civilians, mourning their dead, to ignore the desperate cries of children for their--

Something sliced his--Naruto’s stomach. He looked down on his arm, but nothing. Naruto’s chicken scratch nowhere in sight. 

The Hokage’s tower was demolished. Sasuke sidestepped it. Normally, he would be on the roofs, but there were no roofs. No good way to find a vantage point, but at least Konoha shinobi didn’t have a good vantage point, either. 

Besides, they clearly had more pressing concerns.

Like the newly orphaned children. 

He shook his head, taking a deep breath, and continued. The prison, surprisingly, was still standing, just outside of the former Uchiha district--also standing. It was so far from the center of the village that it would have been impractical to spend energy to destroy it. But the guards were called away. He kicked the door in. 

When he was a child, his father brought him there once. There had been a lesson in there somewhere, and Sasuke remembered thinking that he was going to grow up and be part of the police force, to keep Konoha safe. 

Ha.

But his father never showed him the cells, restricted access, presumably; perhaps, mother talking him out of it. He didn’t know, had no way of knowing. But if been with Orochimaru for so long taught him anything was that prisoners were downstairs, underground, if possible. For safety and psychological reasons. The stairs were labeled. And Sasuke took them, stumbling somewhat. 

Did Naruto’s healing chakra have a limit?

After three flights of stairs--apparently, Konoha almost as competent as Orochimaru when it came to prisoners, but then again, they left their cells unattended, so maybe not--he arrived at a dark, cold hallways lined up with cells. With a burst of chakra to his eyes, the Sharingan came alive. No night visions, but it made him feel more alert. More capable to reacting quickly if the need arose. 

“Karin?”

He heard some groans. Some grunts. 

“Sasuke-kun?”

Three cells down. He rushed over. Karin was sitting on the ground, his knees pressed up to her chest. A seal on the door. Yeah, okay, whatever. “You’re okay?”

Karin stood up, walking up to the door. She looked fine. Perfectly fine, considering she must have been there for at least a month. Her eyes widened, presumably as she got a good look at him. “You’re bleeding!”

“ _ Was _ bleeding,” he said. The attacks on Naruto must have stopped. And he was healed. Thankfully. “Are--” 

“Did Orochimaru-sama sent you?”

Sasuke bit back a sigh. This was not a conversation he wanted to have in Konoha’s prison. But Karin would find out sooner or later. “Orochimaru is dead.”

“What?  _ Why _ ?”

He closed his eyes. The seal was there, keeping Karin there. Not that it mattered one way or another, but he’d been running away from Sound earlier. Left over paranoia. “He was going to take over my body. My brother is still alive,” he said. 

“You killed Orochimaru-sama?”

Sasuke stared at her. “Would you have preferred that he took over my body and left you here to rot?”

Karin stared back. For what felt like hours, but it could not have been more than a few minutes. She shook her head, her lips pressed on a thin line, as if it was causing a great deal of effort to admit that to him, and to herself. “You need me to track your brother down. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Not right now.” Though maybe, his brother was with Naruto, was the one slicing his body up. His hands tightened around the bar. “I need you to track down Naruto. You’ve seen him, haven’t you?”

Karin nodded. “He visits sometimes.”

Of course he did. “Can you?”

Karin nodded again and Sasuke took the seal off the door. When Karin stepped outside, she rolled up her sleeve, biting into her arm. She whimpered, letting go five seconds later, but her eyes were sharper. Sasuke took her arm, running up the stairs. Halting. Karin crashed against him. 

Three Anbu. They must have been alerted of a break-in when he removed the seal. Oh, well. They gripped their katana tighter. Sasuke pulled Karin behind him--she was a  _ sensor _ , not a fighter, especially not after being locked up for weeks. She squeezed his hand, her thumb running from the right to the left. The window on his left. He squeezed her back, keeping the Sharingan on the Anbu guards. Felt as she slipped a hand into his pouch. He let go, running through familiar hand signs, the air cracking with electricity. The window broke. Sasuke ran after Karin as the bodies tumbled down. 

Karin glanced back at him. “I have him locked.”

Sasuke nodded, before glancing back. Of course the image of the Anbu dropping to the ground was scorched into his memory now, but paranoia had been keeping him alive his entire life and it didn’t hurt to check. They ran towards the Uchiha district, passing the dock where he left his first jutsu, the dock unharmed from the invasion. He turned his attention to Karin, her pace slowing down, as they approached the Academy, or the remains of it. Children were lined up against the wall.  _ Orphans _ . He shook his head, not having time for this, not having time for the slowed pace, no matter how much--

“Sasuke-kun!”

_ Fuck _ .

Sakura.

Sasuke picked up the pace, picking up Karin. She held onto his neck. They were almost at the Southern gate, and--

“Sakura-chan is chasing us.”

_ Sakura-chan _ ? Maybe Naruto wasn’t the only one who visited her. 

“I’m running as fast as I can,” he hissed, wishing it was a lie. But it was not. His legs were burning, his lungs were struggling to draw air in. If only he hadn’t been running the entire day, if only Naruto hadn’t been captured--

“Sakura!”

_ Fuck _ .

Sasuke hadn’t heard that voice in three years, but that was Kakashi.

“Uh, Sasuke-kun, Kakashi-senpai is chasing us, too.”

_ Kakashi-senpai _ ? How long had Karin been in Konoha? He pushed chakra onto his legs, picking up the pace as much as he could. It wasn’t much, but no one had tackled them to the ground yet, so he must be maintaining the distance between them and Sakura and Kakashi. Under the circumstances, it was more than he could hope. 

“Left.” 

Sasuke made a sharp left. The village was behind them. But from the corner of his vision, he saw Sakura and Kakashi running after them, still. Of course. Why would they not? How had he expected all of this to go, anyway? 

“Maybe we should stop and explain.” Sasuke tightened his hold on her. Karin shifted, “I mean, we’re trying to find Naruto-kun. I’m sure they would love finding him, too, you know.”

Why was he surprised she called him Naruto-kun? He bit back a sigh, decidedly not slowing down, because that was a terrible idea. The only thing they would accomplish by stopping would be a fight, one that maybe they would win, but would leave him exhausted--more than he already was. The curse seal was already pulsing, somewhat threatening--not something he needed right now. Karin’s lungs wouldn’t survive at an altitude, though it would be easier to ditch Sakura and Kakashi flying. So no stopping. No fighting. 

Karin’s arm hovered over his mouth. Sasuke bit down on it, feeling a rush of chakra immediately. A deep howl came from behind. 

“Kakashi-senpai just--” 

“I know.” 

It was not the first time that Kakashi’s pack was chasing him. It had been a recurring training exercise when he was learning the chidori--and it spoke to his exhaustion because they were on his sides, despite that he could normally outrun Orochimaru. He jumped on the ground. There was a yell from behind him, and the ground split, crumbling, dust flying. He stumbled forward, jumping to another  _ fly-away _ piece of ground. He tripped over his feet like a fucking idiot, and tumbled backwards. He flipped them, skating across the floor. 

Karin helped him up. The Sharingan swirled, taking in Kakashi’s pack around them, half of the fucking ground missing, Kakashi’s Sharingan fixed on them, Sakura next to him, holding a kunai. The hounds growled. They looked ridiculous, if Sasuke was honest, because they weren’t intimidated, except maybe Bull, but Sasuke knew that he was nice, had spent a lot of days with them. Pakkun liked his stomach and ears scratched, Urushi liked to catch treats in the air, Bull liked to lay on the grass--Sasuke used to lay on him as he studied a scroll, or meditated--Akino used to let him wear his sunglasses. He used to take naps with them. After a particularly frustrating training session, Guruko would lay on his feet to keep him warm, and Pakkun would offer to let him poke his paws. 

Except now, they were barring their teeth, their eyes fixed on Karin and himself, their ears pinned back. 

“We’re trying to find Naruto-kun!”

But despite her insistence on explaining, on talking, Karin’s hand was still inside his pouch, presumably gripping a kunai. Bull’s bark was deep. Loud. Sasuke glanced at him, before turning his attention to Kakashi. To Sakura. He could  _ probably _ take them. He absolutely could probably take them. 

“Do you know where he is?” Sakura sounded just like she did the last time Sasuke saw her, made her lose consciousness. But her eyes were cold and the grip on her kunai tightened just so. 

“I’m finding him!”

“Why?” Kakashi’s eyes were colder than Sakura, if that was possible.

Karin glanced at him. Sasuke glanced down at his arm, his message to Naruto covered by his sleeve, but still there, he knew. And without looking, he knew that Naruto hadn’t written anything back, couldn’t have. He had felt the injuries that Naruto had. Felt Naruto’s chakra--or something else healing him, healing Naruto. Saying all of that sounded stupid, though. How was he to explain that since he’d deserted Konoha, turned traitor, attempted to murder Naruto, everything on Naruto’s skin appeared on his own? The explanation sounded more like an excuse, like lies, even to himself. 

But now, Kakashi’s packs had their scents, and even if they could get away, they would continue to hunt them down. 

And after selling fifty secrets to Konoha, giving up the locations of Kabuto’s experimental labs, hideouts,  _ spies in Konoha _ , Naruto had told him that Grand--the Hokage was planing to at least grant him an audience. 

Maybe he should tell them that Akatsuki took him, and he was only looking for his brother--which was not necessarily wrong, but not a moral crusade, and not something that would warrant Kakashi and Sakura letting them--letting  _ this _ go. And even if  _ they _ let them go, surely, they would tell their Hokage, and surely she would send Anbu after them.

Karin cleared her throat beside him, poking him on the back. 

“Naruto...” he began, keeping his expression blanked. He was good at that, having kept his expression blanked for years. “When he gets hurt...it happens to me, too.”

“What?”

Karin snapped her fingers. “That’s why it’s orange!”

Sasuke swallowed back a groan, having no idea what Karin was referring to, and finding that he didn’t care about that very much right now. He took a step forward, doing his best to ignore the renewed barking and growls, did his best to ignore the way that Sakura shifted into a fighting stance, the way that Kakashi slipped his hand into his pouch. At least the ground wasn’t crumbled, that particular disaster behind Sakura and Kakashi. 

He paused a meter away from them, not stupid enough to get closer. If needed, he could leap back or up, to the trees. Fall down and pick up Karin again. But he paused the chakra to his eyes, the Sharingan receding, the colors losing their sharpness. Funnily enough, that seemed to put them more on edge. 

Whatever.

He bit back a sigh and pulled his shirt over his head, hearing a stifled giggle from behind him.  _ Fuck, Karin _ . Just what he would have expected, if his brain wasn’t clouded by a thousand pressing worries. Naruto’s last message came two days ago, large and bold across his fucking chest, from his left ribs to the middle of his torso. As if Sasuke didn’t have to worry about Orochimaru and Kabuto trying to rip off his clothes at random intervals. 

Kabuto almost succeeded once, after the mask became a permanent fixture  _ because as it turned out permanent ink lasted a fucking long time _ . Sasuke punched him in the face and Kabuto kicked him on the ribs, and they attempted to kill each other until Orochimaru grew bored and intervened, separating them. Sasuke’s left hand stayed on his face, keeping the mask over his nose, his cheeks, his chin, even as Orochimaru twisted his elbows back, a finger brushing against the mask. Sasuke had growled, willing the Sharingan to fade as Orochimaru stroke the mask, with cold eyes and flat smile on his face.

Orochimaru had kept him immobile, stroking his face, obviously peeved that he’d punch Kabuto, as the medic brushed himself off. But eventually, he had waved his hands, releasing him, and telling Kabuto to leave him alone, as he was clearly being a teenager and feeling insecure about his appearance.

Sasuke didn’t sleep for days after that, until the dick and  _ Asshole _ disappeared completely, until he no longer had to wear a mask and look like his former teacher. The day his face was clear from markings, he wrote a small message on his collarbone, to knock it off unless he wanted Orochimaru to kill him.

Naruto stopped writing on more visible places then, but his chest didn’t count. Each day, Sasuke would wake up with updates from Konoha. The last one, two days ago, had meant the most, even if he was never going to admit that to anyone, out loud, ever. 

_ We found it! Grandma is sending Anbus to find any parents! _

Underneath it was Sasuke’s own message back.  _ Stop being so fucking obvious, idiot. And all their parents are dead _ .

And underneath that, in bigger and bolder words.  _ IT DOESN’T HURT TO TRY BASTARD _ .

“Sasuke-kun,” Karin’s whisper broke the silence, as Sakura and Kakashi kept staring at him, their expressions controlled, guarded. As Sasuke pushed his own thoughts aside. “Why do you have a drawing of a man’s privates on your back?”

He was going to fucking  _ kill  _ Naruto. How did he even get his hand to--a fucking clone. He used a fucking clone to draw a dick on his back and Sasuke hadn’t seen it. At least neither had Kabuto or Orochimaru, or anyone else. Akatsuki better not kill him because at this point, that privilege was reserved for him. What a fucking idiot.

“Kakashi-sensei?” Sakura’s voice wavered at the end, though her eyes remained like ice. 

Kakashi remained quiet, inspecting Sasuke’s chest. “That is Naruto’s handwriting.”

“But he could have copied it with the Sha--” 

“Right,” Sasuke huffed. “Because anyone in their right mind would want to copy that atrocious--” 

“Who says you’re in your right mind?”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, though part of him--well, Sakura had surely changed, had she not? He put his shirt back on, ignoring the sound of protest from Karin. “Look,” he turned to face Kakashi. “Naruto and I have been able to write on each other since I left Konoha. It’s just that now, he gets hurt and I do, too. And I can’t die yet. Karin is tracking Naruto down and we’re going to save him.” And then he was going to kill him. “From Akatsuki.”

Kakashi tilted his head. “Does he also get hurt when you get hurt?”

Sasuke shrugged. “Presumably.”

“Shame.”

Sakura huffed. Sasuke leapt back, landing next to Karin, his Sharingan activated after barely dodging Sakura’s punch. She walked to a tree, keeping his glare on him, pulled her arm back, and brush her knuckles against the wood. A second later, the tree was ten meters away, broken into large chunks. Sakura’s eyes remained on him as she walked back to Kakashi. 

But that was that. Obviously, Kakashi and Sakura tagged along. Sasuke kept himself between Karin and them, largely in case that Anbu came after them--they were wanted, after all, and Sakura’s rage and hatred made it abundantly clear that she would like to see him in jail, if at least for a short time out. Kakashi was the same. Sasuke felt the distrust from him almost as easily as he used to feel Orochimaru’s fury--and if Anbu came after them, he would need to carry Karin again to flee. 

“I’m looking for food,” Sasuke said, keeping his voice low and his back to Sakura and Kakashi. “Stay alert.”

“Sasuke-kun,” Karin grabbed his arm. “Bring some for them--” 

“They can--” 

“They were very nice to me when I was in jail.”

He didn’t care. About any of that. “Good for--” 

“I would bring them food myself, but you know I’m tracker not a fighter, and if someone attacks, I won’t be able to defend myself.”

“You’re such a liar.”

Karin shrugged. “Only about the fighting. Sakura-chan used to visit me every third day. She always brought me sweets from the market, and Kakashi-senpai brought--” 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied, shrugging her hand off, and jumping onto a tree.

He paused at the edge of river. Fish, it was. He stripped to his boxers because how stupid would it be if he got sick? He couldn’t have that. But maybe he wouldn’t get sick, maybe Naruto’s healing ability would fix that, too. It could be. He didn’t know. He mostly didn’t know anything about this situation, even if he had three whole fucking years to investigate.

He stifled a groan as he stepped inside. It was cold, but there were plenty of fish, and that was the most important thing. He caught five. Four for himself and one for Karin. Set them on the edge. Picked three more. And then two more. 

He hadn’t eaten for a while.

Whatever.

He got out of the water, combing his fingers through his hair. He picked up his shirt, dirty with dry blood--he was already there. With a sigh, he shoved it under the water, using his hands to try to remove the stains. He was largely successful, but the shirt was wet, and it was getting dark. Leaving Karin alone was...not ideal. He shoved a wooden stick through the fish, to make it easier to carry, picked up his shirt, and ran back. There was no camp because none of them had planned for this, but they had started a fire. 

Kakashi and Sakura were close together, both staring at the fire, not speaking. Karin was farther away, but the fire still flickered shadows across her face. She looked fine, though, so Sasuke turned on his heel, looking for wood for their own fire. It was stupid and unnecessary, and not particularly practical, because two fires had a higher chance of attracting the wrong kind of attention, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t sharing a fire with them. 

He landed next to Karin, once again doing his best to ignore the stifled giggles, and handing her half of the fish. She composed herself then, sending him a far less suggestive smile and walked to Kakashi and Sakura’s fire. Sasuke turned around, not caring to see them get the fish, and shoved the wood together into pile, lighting it on fire, extending his shirt beside it for it to dry. 

He felt something hot sliding across his jaw. He wiped his hand, looking down at it. Blood. His heart skipped a beat, but when he ran his fingers across his jaw, he only found raised skin, a small scar. Karin sat next to him, holding two fish over the fire, twisting them over the flame every few seconds. 

“How did you kill him?”

Sasuke glanced at her. She was staring at the fire, the fish still hovering over the flames as their skin slowly roasted, but her chest had stopped rising and falling, clearly holding her breath. “I ran a chidori through him. He wasn’t expecting it.”

“Of course he wasn’t.” The betrayal was evident in her voice. The accusation wasn’t far behind. “You--” 

“He was going to--” 

“You made a deal with him.”

Sasuke shrugged. “My brother is still alive. I need to kill him.”

“If he was dead, would you have done it?”

Sasuke shrugged, again. He would have stabbed his eyes first, of course, but after that, Orochimaru could have gladly taken over his body, he supposed. “He sent hunters after you, you know. He was going to kill you, after you lost the eastern base.”

“I didn’t  _ lose  _ it. We were ambushed and--” 

“I know.”

Karin stared at him. And then shoved him. “ _ You _ told them. I thought...” she shook her head. “I can’t believe you did that, Sasuke-kun. You betrayed Orochimaru-sama, he took you in and...he taught you everything he knew.”

Lucky him. “You really would have preferred that he took over my body?”

Karin opened her mouth. Turned back to the fire. “Orochimaru-sama saved my life.”

“He destroyed thousands of lives, too.”

Karin’s glare shifted to something else, but Sasuke turned his attention to the fire and to his shirt. He flipped it, his eyes catching something on his hand. He scooted closer to the fire. 

_ We need to talk _ . 

Still almost impossible to read, but Naruto’s handwriting. That was something. Promising, almost. He took his pen out of his pocket and wrote on his forearm. 

_ Where are you? _

_ Not sure _ . _ Running. Outside of Suna, maybe _ .

They were close to Suna. Sasuke glanced over his shoulder. Apparently, Kakashi had offered to take the first shift, as Sakura was curled into a tight ball. Karin was leaning against a tree, her eyes closed. She would wake up if he felt his chakra stirring, no doubt, but it didn’t take chakra to get up and walk over to the other fire. Kakashi’s back tensed when he was a meter away from him. Sakura remained a tight ball, though. Sasuke walked to stand before him, lifting his sleeve, letting him read the message. Eventually, Kakashi met his eyes. 

“Why are you doing this?”

There was something in his voice that unsettled him. He kept his voice flat as he replied, “I told you. If he dies, I die, and I can’t die yet.”

“How did he get away?”

Sasuke wrote the question underneath Naruto’s last message because he had been reused to an instantaneous communication system.

_ Complicated _ .

_ Uncomplicate it _ .

_ Your brother saved me _ .

Sasuke’s mind stopped. He ran the message over and over, even activating the Sharingan, but the message didn’t change, it remained on his forearm. 

_ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ .  _ Your brother saved me _ . 

He blinked as Kakashi yanked his arm towards him. He almost fell to his knees, but he kept still, his body not willing to fight right now, right there, as Kakashi read the message, too. 

Why would Itachi save him? It was far more likely that Itachi had discovered this ability and was using it for his advantage, for some sickening reason. Sasuke relaxed his jaw, after realizing that he was gritting his teeth. Kakashi’s Sharingan was uncovered again, still staring at the message. 

Sasuke yanked his arm back.  _ Why? _ The word obviously showed that his hand had been shaking when he wrote it, but it was understandable, and Naruto had been writing nonsense on his body for weeks, so it was fine. 

_ I would really rather tell you in person. Where are you? _

_ Near Suna. _

_ Great! _ A drawing of a smiling fox joined the word soon after.

Sasuke stared.  _ Is he writing on you? _

He ignored his beating heart as he waited for the response, ignored Kakashi standing over his shoulder, much like the same way that Orochimaru used to stand behind him, except that Kakashi didn’t make him want to turn around and press his back against a flat surface for the rest of his life. Even if it should because Kakashi was...perhaps not the enemy, right now, to him, but Sasuke was an enemy to Kakashi. It had been a stupid question, he realized, because if Itachi was writing on Naruto, he could simply write a lie. But it was even more stupid because Itachi Uchiha wouldn’t be drawing smiling foxes.

If he allowed himself a moment to remember, Itachi never liked to draw.

He shoved that thought away as he saw a new message appearing.

_ Nope! He’s cooking a rabbit. _

Kakashi huffed behind him. “Must be his third try.”

“What?”

_ He burned the first one _ .

Sasuke stared down at the message, before glancing at Kakashi. There was nothing in his expression, though, almost like it had been replaced by a mask. Sasuke pulled his sleeve down, using it to scrub his skin, knowing that it wouldn’t make the messages disappear, but preferring to have raw skin instead of those messages on him, like...

He rolled his shoulders back and walked back to Karin. He sat down next to her, staring up at the branches. Karin was a quiet sleeper, only letting a soft hissing sound out of her nose with each breath. But it was enough noise to keep rested, but awake. Just as it should be. Three hours later, Sakura woke up and Kakashi shifted--not quite on his back, but not sitting any longer. Changing shifts. Sasuke looked down at Karin, but she looked exhausted and he knew what a toll it took on her to replenish other people’s chakras. Besides, it’s not like he would be sleeping even if she was standing guard. 

Sleeping took energy--it took energy to relax his muscles and ease his heartbeat and push aside his racing thoughts--energy that he didn’t have right now. All of his energy was currently used to keep his mind blank, keeping intruding thoughts away. 

His mind stayed blank,  _ quiet _ , until both Sakura and Kakashi were standing up, stretching, mumbling something to each other. Sasuke nudged Karin, her eyes snapping open at the third nudge. Alert, just as a guard should be. 

“You didn’t eat,” she whispered.

Sasuke stared at the fish. “You didn’t either.”

“I’m on a diet.”

He stood up, “me too.”

There should have been a giggle, or a  _ but Sasuke-kun, you’re perfect already _ . But Karin only stood up, picked up a stick with a fish on its end, and handed it to him. “You need to be at your best.”

Sasuke looked down at the fish, then glanced up. Karin was scanning the surroundings, a small frown on her face, too many emotions behind her eyes, that Sasuke had no energy, time, need, or want to decipher. But he knew the way she rolled her shoulders back, the way her back straightened, the way she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. 

He rushed chakra into his eyes, the world bleeding around the edges. “You feel them, don’t you?”

Karin gave him a curt nod. “You need to eat, Sasuke-kun.”

It sounded like she was telling him to eat because she knew it was going to be his last meal. But Sasuke obliged. For a last meal, it sucked. But it filled his stomach and that’s all it mattered. 

Karin set a slower pace. Sasuke understood it for what it meant, Karin trying to postpone the inevitable. He was a little insulted that she thought he was going to die, but he kind of thought the same thing, so it was understandable. It was fine. But halfway through the day, she sped up. They all followed after her, until they stopped at a clearing, a few kilometers away from Suna’s border. 

“Naruto!”

Sakura past them, followed by Kakashi. Naruto was running towards, unharmed, alive. Itachi nowhere in sight.

“Sakura-chan! Kakashi-sensei!”

Sasuke turned to Karin. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” she wore a deep frown. Her voice was laced with annoyance and disbelief. “I lost him. That’s why I ran faster, I thought...” she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sasuke-kun.”

She was probably only half sorry, as apparently, he wouldn’t die that day. He shook his head, “it’s fine. We’ll find him another day.” He turned his attention to his old team. Both Kakashi and Sakura were checking Naruto over, as if they didn’t know that all his injuries would have healed. “Now,” he cleared his throat. “I’m going to kill that idiot.”

Karin held him back. “He’s the only one left from my clan.”

Which was not a fair statement to say at all because Sasuke had a lot of reasons to kill Naruto, of course, but the pain on her voice was understandable, understated, visible, and it...might have hit too close to...he crossed his arms. Everything was hidden, underneath his sleeves, but it was still there. 

Naruto telling him that his brother had saved him, like Itachi hadn’t attempted to kidnap him when they were younger. 

Naruto telling him that Itachi burned the first rabbit, as if Itachi had shown that he was a hopeless cook. Like--

“Hey.”

Sasuke shook his head. Naruto was standing in front of him, having apparently switched spots with Karin, who was with Kakashi and Sakura, talking. When had they switched? Such a lack of observational skills would get him killed on a fight. Orochimaru would have pinned his eyes open and put him through a sleep deprivation regimen until he pulled himself together, how was he so distracted that he hadn’t seen Karin walking away and Naruto standing in front of him?

“Uh--” 

“What happened? Where is he?”

Naruto shifted his weight. “I told him I should talk to you first.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. There was--why would Itachi listen to Naruto? Kakashi would have noticed if Naruto was under Genjutsu, of course, so that couldn’t be it. “And he listened to you?”

Naruto grinned. “He did once I threatened to slit my throat.”

That’s what the cut on his jaw was. He shoved him. Hard. Naruto shoved him back. Sasuke tackled him to the ground. It knocked the air out of his own lungs. That fucking idiot. Almost causing him his life with Orochimaru, making lose sleep over incriminating words, pictures, over--

He landed on his back. Sasuke drove his palm up Naruto’s nose. Two  _ cracks _ . Warm blood dripped onto his shirt. Spilled down his mouth. He closed his mouth, not wanting to taste metal, not willing to admit that he had just punched himself.

But it healed.

“Are you done?”

Sasuke buckled his hips, throwing him off, slipping under him, and kicking him on the back. It  _ hurt _ . But he didn’t give a fuck, if he needed to kick his own ass to kick Naruto’s, he would gladly do that. The fucking idiot. Naruto blocked a kick. Sasuke flashed behind him, kicking him in the ass. It hurt. This was absolutely--

Naruto grabbed his shoulder and flipped him on the air. Slammed him against the ground. Sasuke bit back the groan, but another came from Naruto. This was so stupid. What kind of sick joke was this? It was absolutely, fucking ridiculous--how did Itachi ever expect him to kill his--whatever to obtain the Mangekyou? That would be suicide. This was fucking bullshit. He threw a fireball in his general direction, holding his breath until he didn’t feel his own skin scorching, until he sighed in relief after Naruto dodged. 

Okay.

Okay, he got it. 

It was fine. He took a deep breath. Naruto was breathing hard, his eyes on him, a scowl on his face. 

Sasuke took another breath. “What happened?”

Naruto looked to his left. They were all watching them. Kakashi might have been holding back both Sakura and Karin. “I don’t know if you want them to hear.”

Sasuke nodded in the opposite direction, signalling to Karin that he would be back. Kakashi must have understood as well. They put some distance between them, staying quiet until Naruto halted. Sat down. He stared at him expectantly, until Sasuke was sitting down, too. 

“What happened?”

Naruto sighed. “They attacked. They knocked me out and when I woke up, I was in a cave. I don’t know what happened next, but Itachi was...not happy. He dragged me out--I think he must have killed some of them. He let me go, but it was  _ weird _ , you know? I mean, he kidnapped me, so why would he help me escape? I asked him and he ignored me, but you know me,” he waved his hand. “He didn’t want to talk at first and he kept talking in riddles. He kept asking about our messages.”

Sasuke counted to a hundred, but Naruto was just staring at him, like he was some little kid, a toddler, and Naruto was trying to figure out how to tell him that the store ran out of his favorite candy. “And?”

“His boss told him to kill your family.”

“ _ What _ ?” The question was flat. But--but that was mostly because he could not have heard right. Could not have possibly heard right. 

“He said it was the only option. It was a mission,” Naruto’s voice broke, in the way that something it did when they were younger, the way it broke when they first left the village and were attacked by mercenaries, the way it broke when they had buried Zabuza Momochi and that kid that killed Sasuke. 

“It wasn’t,” Sasuke gritted out. “He was crazy and murdered everyone, he told me it was to--” 

“Test himself,” Naruto finished. “He told you to find him after you killed your best friend, after you became strong. Didn’t you feel confused af--” 

“Of course I was confused afterwards!” Sasuke stood up. He could not punch Naruto, because that would be punching himself, and he didn’t need that right now. He just needed to--

“I think he really wants you to kill him.”

“Shut up!”

And for once, Naruto did. He was going to--

What did--

Why would--

Itachi was lying. Obviously. How did Naruto believe him? Why did Naruto believed him? Why did--

“He said he was going to wait in ‘that room’. I don’t know what room he was talking about, to be entirely honest, but--” 

Sasuke shoved him to the ground, turned around, and sprinted. The curse seal spread across his body, until it consumed him, the wings tearing his back to break free, and he took flight. The air was thinner, but his lungs were used to it. And he was a faster flyer than runner, anyway. That room--Sasuke knew exactly he was talking about. Underneath the shrine. The secret room. 

\--------------------------------------------

Danzo Shimura died. His brother should have killed him, but Sasuke’s temper was hotter than Itachi’s, had always been like that. And his blood had boiled with fury, with a desperate need to right the wrongs placed on him by strangers. Placed on his brother by strangers. 

It looked like an accident. 

The Elders’ deaths looked like an accident, too. Sasuke ignored the look his brother sent him when he heard of those deaths. But Sasuke had been trained by Orochimaru, had never carried political assassinations, but had picked up plenty of tips on  _ how _ to carry them out. They were old and it wasn’t difficult. It was more than what they deserved, but Sasuke had trained under Orochimaru for three years, and knew the importance of keeping appearances, knew the importance of making deaths look like accidents or suicides.

He always thought that he would only kill one person, but he supposed that his brother’s life was worth three assholes’ lives. It was a fair tradeoff. 

Sasuke squeezed the tomato. The store owner handed him a bag with a bright smile, and a bag of rice, for free. It was weird. 

The Hokage had made a big show about it all. About most parts. In the dead of night, Sasuke wished that she would have admitted what the village did, what they forced Itachi to do, but Itachi had received a pardon. He had received a pardon. Their betrayals written off as self-sacrificial missions, missions to infiltrate Konoha’s worst enemies, and whisper back their weaknesses to take them down. 

Sasuke tried to pay for the tomatoes, but the store owner refused. “For Itachi.”

It was not the first time that it happened, that Sasuke heard his brother’s name on a civilian’s mouth with admiration, respect--exactly the way that he sounded when he was child, looking up to his big brother. But he was still getting used to it. 

He thanked the owner and jumped on the roof, heading back to their apartment. Itachi was gone on a mission, with Kakashi and Guy--which was weird, with people that Itachi fought not that long ago. He shook his head. They would be back soon, but until then, the apartment was empty. He unlocked the door, taking his shoes off, and heading to the kitchen. He took out a cutting board and knife, until his eyes caught words along his thumb. 

_ Are you free? _

Naruto had been practiced his handwriting, the letters no longer squeezed together, no longer slanted to the right. He picked up a pen. 

_ Making lunch. _

_ Be there in three. _

Sasuke walked to the door, opened it. Naruto was standing there, a wide grin on his face. He sidestepped Sasuke, taking his shoes off. “What are you making?”

“Lunch.”

Naruto rolled his eyes, though he was clearly looking at the kitchen. He pushed his lips into a pout when he spotted the vegetables, the lack of noddles anywhere on the counter. “That’s fine, Iruka-sensei is taking me out to Ramen in an hour.”

“I wasn’t offering to feed you.” Naruto hummed, before turning to look at him. Sasuke felt the glance on him as he sliced the tomatos. The eggplant. Finally, he set the knife down. “What?”

“The Chunin Exams are coming up.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“Granny says that I can’t ever be Hokage if I stay as Genin!”

Sasuke smirked. “Maybe--” 

“Don’t--” 

“It’s time for you to find a new dream.”

“Hilarious,” Naruto said. 

Sasuke looked down to hide a smile. It felt good to return his oh-so-helpful-words back to him. Though to be fair, they  _ had _ been useful: Sasuke  _ had _ found a new dream. Killing Danzo and the Elders.  _ And _ Naruto was right, he was happier than he imagined he would have been if he killed his brother. He clenched his jaw--he had been so close to killing his brother, until--

He shook his head, looking back up at Naruto. “You know, you’ll pass if you take them.”

“I want you take them with me--” 

“No.”

“Why not? Do you want to stay a Genin forever?”

Sasuke felt a bit foolish doing D-rank missions, but he finished them in a flash, was paid, and had time to train and do things that he never had time to do. Besides--more importantly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be higher ranked, wasn’t sure he wanted to obtain mission that he...shouldn’t carry out. If someone ever handed him a mission, like they had done his brother, he wasn’t sure that he had the self-control not to stab the Hokage, or whoever handed him the mission. There was no morality issues when he painted someone’s fence. 

“Do you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“But I was thinking,” Naruto shoved him his hand. “We could cheat like this! Sasuke, it’s perfect! Life has handed us the perfect opportunity to cheat on them!  _ I want to cheat _ .”

Sasuke snorted. “I already--” 

“I know you did, but I didn’t get to--” 

“Because you’re an idiot.”

Naruto groaned. “Just help me cheat!”

Sasuke looked down again, feeling a slight tug on his lips. “No.”

“You know,” Naruto said. “I could just doodle on my face again.”

He glanced up. Naruto was holding his pen, hovering it over his cheek. “Don’t you dare. I’m going to kill you.”

“Take them with me!”

“No!”

“Come on.” Naruto set the pen down. “If you don’t want to go on missions,” he cleared his throat. Sasuke bit back a sigh. They had that conversation one night on their stomachs, the last time Sasuke drank, thank you very much. “You can be a teacher. Like Iruka-sensei.”

Sasuke snorted. “Who would ever let me be a teacher? Idiot.”

Naruto shrugged. “I think a lot of kids could learn from you--who else would teach them how to carry S-rank, undercover missions so well?”

Sasuke threw an apple at him, not surprised that he dodged.

“Come on, Sasuke,” he pouted. “Take them with me. Karin will be our third member! She already said yes. And Sakura-chan told me that she’ll cheer us the last stage.”

“That sounds quite terrible.”

Naruto sighed. And continued to pout, twirling the pen in his fingers. Sighing. And pouting. 

“ _ Fine _ . But I am kicking your butt in the finals.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I skipped a lot of parts, but i didnt want to write too much angst. And if it was confusing, Itachi spilled because he was worried sasuke was going to die when naruto slit his own throat (and because naruto has TALK JUTSU)  
> anyway i really love this AU as pure wish fullfillment so im hoping to make a bunch of one-shot in this universe because i think naruto and sasuke been able to write on each other is both hilarious and adorable.  
> it was super fun to write this so i hope it was enjoyable to read too!

**Author's Note:**

> it started as a joke. why do i do this to myself.  
> review?


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